


Ex Post Facto (Alternate)

by ApostropheN



Series: Cavit Ro Voyager Alternate Retelling [6]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e08 Ex Post Facto, Gen, M/M, Multi, Ocampa, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29675937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostropheN/pseuds/ApostropheN
Summary: Continuing the retelling of Captain Cavit and Commander Ro on USS Voyager. Voyager is skirting between multiple areas of space held by species better avoided when they come across two nearly destroyed ships. Despite not having attacked the ships, Voyager must prove their innocence to aliens convinced they are there to ally with their enemies.Note: the "Major Character Death" warning applies to the original Starfleet crew from Canon Voyager (Janeway, Paris, Kim) having not survived the trip to the Alpha Quadrant, whereas instead Cavit, Stadi, Fitzgerald and Honigsberg survived.
Series: Cavit Ro Voyager Alternate Retelling [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137725





	1. Teaser

“Crewman Vance is having a bad dream,” Gara said

Stadi turned to her. The six Ocampa were all sitting comfortably in a circle in front of her, with Stadi at one end, their eyes closed.

“That’s true,” Stadi said, feeling the shimmer of the former Maquis’ discomfort in her own thoughts as well. “Now, walk it back. How did you get there?”

Stadi was teaching them all a Betazoid technique she thought might help them hone their telepathic focus.

“He was dreaming,” Gara said. “I started thinking about dreams because having my eyes closed made me think about sleeping.”

Stadi felt her focus slide back to the group, step by step.

Once again, the six Ocampa were back to a simple, single thought shared among them: her.

Stadi felt them in her mind, and kept her own focus on them in return. Letting them feel her sensing them. It was a simple telepathic feedback loop, something that Betazoid children did to learn how to keep their own thoughts tuned in the direction of their choice, rather than somewhere else at random.

For the most part, the Ocampa were picking up the technique rather quickly as a group—but that was a pattern Stadi had already noticed in their sessions. When the Ocampa worked together, their abilities had a way of strengthening each other. Individually, they still struggled for the level of cohesion they were showing here and now.

It might be that she needed to work with them apart as well as a group, if only to figure out what exactly was at play.

She felt one of them drifting again, and waited, hoping the man in question would catch the drift himself and recover without her having to say something, like Gara had.

“Something’s wrong,” Abol said.

“Walk it back, then,” Stadi said. “Tell us where you are, and walk the connections back to where you drifted away. Tell us the associations.”

“Binary star,” Abol said, and the image was in Stadi’s mind as well as all the others. A bright pair of stars, shining in the space. “We were using one as a starting point for the latest astrogation calculations in stellar cartography. I thought about it because this exercise reminded me of the process: we’re using multiple minds to chart a course… But… there’s something wrong…”

Stadi frowned, feeling Abol’s worry and unease ripple through the group.

“Abol,” she said. “Walk the thoughts back.”

“No, he’s right,” Eru said.

Kes tilted her head. “The binary stars. There’s something happening.”

They all _shifted_. Stadi reached out with her thoughts on reflex, holding onto the group protectively, and her mind’s eye filled with the binary star system. And then, drawing back until the stars were nearly overlapping in the distance, she saw a ship.

No, two ships.

One was grey, and more-or-less teardrop shaped with embedded nacelles, while the other, a warmer russet-brown, had more traditional nacelle wing configurations, though it was smaller overall.

And something else, between them…

An explosion in the space between the two ships with a bright, pulsing yellow-white that sent off arcs of bright light. The smaller of the two ships was struck violently by a curving wave of energy and a shimmer of a field that could have been shields failed within seconds, followed by whole chunks of the ship’s hull being torn away.

The silver ship fared better at first, the now fading arcs of energy striking it multiple times before their own shields fell. The last few arcs struck the ship’s hull and did damage, but didn’t shred it the way the first had with the smaller ship. Both ships darkened, obviously losing power.

With a gasp, Stadi shook her head, forcing mental defences into place and blocking out the vision of destruction. 

The six Ocampa all sprawled in their chairs. None of them were awake.

Or moving.

She reached out with her mind and felt them all— _alive, they were alive_!—then tapped her combadge. “Stadi to sick-bay, medical emergency in my quarters.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the themes of the canon 'Ex Post Facto' I wanted to stick with a mystery, and also focus on the telepaths on this alternate version of Voyager, so I'm going back to Stadi and my little group of Ocampa who ended up on Voyager on this timeline (including Daggin as well as Kes from 'Caretaker' and four other Ocampa who were only scene in the background of Daggin's garden area and didn't have names). 
> 
> The Banea and Nimiri's ongoing war will still be the core of the conflict, but there'll be no cheating wives or tiny dogs, alas.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!


	2. Act I

_Captain’s log, stardate 48598.4: According to the Talaxian database, we’re close to an area of space contested between two species: the Numiri and the Banea. There’s not a lot of detail on either species in the database beyond avoiding numerous Numiri patrols especially, so we’ve plotted a course that avoids their borders by a wide margin, while also trying to avoid the Kazon vessels we’re picking up on long-range sensors._

Cavit picked up his mug of tea and swallowed while he went over the morning reports in his Ready Room. He’d almost gotten used to having the minty drink in the morning rather than a coffee, and he credited Gara and Eru with coming up with so many flavours from Ocampa’s airponics garden.

Cir, the tallest and broadest of the bunch, had requested permission to start on a hydroponics addition as well, and when Cavit saw the projected production, he authorized it. The less they needed to rely on the replicators, the better, and Voyager’s water reclamation systems were top-of-the-line.

The stellar cartography and astrogation updates from Taitt weren’t quite as easy to feel good about. More Kazon activity on long-range sensors. At least the Numiri and Banea used subspace buoys around their territories, allowing Voyager to adjust their course. On the plus side, Taitt and Stadi had come up with a clever series of course adjustments that limited their time out of warp, which was ideal.

Cavit flipped over to Rollins’s security update and scrolled right to Crewman Cing’ta’s appended notes from his Cloud system. No mention of Equinox, again. He sighed, and forced himself back to the start of the report. Nothing to worry about, really. Rollins had almost completed translating the data from the Talaxian database directly into the ship’s sensors databank. That would help in a crunch with ship identification, in as much as hey could rely on the Talaxian database to begin with.

Honigsberg’s engineering report had some solid good news: they were up to three fully functional shuttles. The plan to replace the impulse-only shuttlepods with warp-capable shuttlecraft was moving along about as fast as could be expected: drawing antimatter from the warp core being the largest step in the process, and one they could only take while not at warp.

Still, it felt like a win.

He picked up his mug to take another swallowed only to realize he’d already finished it. He considered a trip back to the Mess Hall for another cup, then shook his head.

Cavit eyed his desktop monitor and saw the time. 

Then he noticed the alert blinking in the bottom corner of the screen.

A medical incident had been logged and was ongoing, with Sick Bay responding.

He fought the urge to contact Fitzgerald. He knew full well Jeff would reach out to him if he needed to know what was going on.

It didn’t make him any less concerned, though.

*

By the time Fitzgerald and Nurse T’Prena arrived at Stadi’s quarters, Cir and Daggin had regained consciousness. Stadi stood back while they worked, and Fitzgerald and T’Prena scanned the group with medical tricorders.

The others groggily came back in turn while the medical officers scanned them. Each new conscious thought from the group relaxed Stadi a tiny bit more.

They were okay.

“There’s nothing obviously wrong,” Fitzgerald said, closing his tricorder. “Elevated adrenaline and other signs of a scare, which isn’t surprising given what you say you all saw, but no signs of damage or lasting trauma. Still, I’d like you all to come to Sick Bay, just so we can look you all over.” He eyed Stadi. “You too, lieutenant.”

She was tempted to protest, she felt perfectly fine and had far, far more experience handling telepathic incidents than the Ocampa, but she nodded instead. She could feel the set of Fitzgerald’s thoughts, and he’d be willing to push the point. “Of course.”

Back in Sick Bay, once they’d all had a more thorough examination, the doctor repeated his initial conclusion. “I’m not seeing any lasting effects,” he said, taking Stadi aside. “But I can’t explain why they lost consciousness.”

“They don’t have a lot of practice keeping overwhelming thoughts or emotions out,” Stadi said. “The sudden shock of it could have triggered unconsciousness as a self-defence response.”

“But this hasn’t happened before,” Fitzgerald said.

Stadi shook her head. “We’ve been gathering as a group for a while now, and when we all work together, their collective abilities are quite strong. Their receptive telepathy especially. It’s like a chorus,” she said. She never enjoyed trying to explain telepathy with inexact metaphors, but she’d had enough practice with doing so in Starfleet over the years. “If one of them needs to take a breath, the rest carry the note.”

Fitzgerald eyed the group of Ocampa. “You think these two ships are real. The ones you saw.”

Stadi nodded. “I do.”

“Are we due to get near a binary star system?” Fitzgerald said. She supposed it wasn’t the sort of thing he paid attention do on a daily basis.

“Yes,” she said. “But we didn’t intend to stop.” She looked past him to where the Ocampa were talking with each other and Nurse T’Prena. “I’ll bring it up with the Captain.”

Fitzgerald nodded. “You’re free to go.”

“I’ll just say goodbye,” she said, moving back over to the Ocampa.

T’Prena, who’d been standing with them, regarded Stadi as she joined them. “If Betazoid practices are falling short, there are Vulcan techniques that may be of use.”

Stadi tried not to bristle, if only for the sake of the Ocampa, all of whom were watching her. The last thing she wanted to do was undermine their confidence in their own ability. Or hers, for that matter. She smiled. “They’re making great progress, T’Prena. Their instincts are good.”

“Their instincts are emotional, not logical,” T’Prena said dryly. “And therefore prone to error.”

Oh, this was fun. Stadi wondered what the logical version of “stop talking down to us” sounded like, groping for a turn of phrase that wouldn’t come off quite so sharp.

“From what I’ve read,” Kes said, speaking up into the awkward moment with her gentle voice, “Vulcan telepathy is very directed and controlled. Lieutenant Stadi has been working on our ability to focus our attention. Do you think the methods are compatible?” She glanced at the others. “We’d be willing to try working together with you both.”

Stadi tried not to smile as she picked up T’Prena’s mental reaction to the idea of ‘working together’ with a Betazoid telepath. It was borderline emotional.

“Vulcan telepathic practices are generally taught master to student,” T’Prena said. “One on one. That way the teacher can guide the student most effectively.”

As evasive rejections went, it was nearly poetic and almost subtle. Stadi did smile now. “I had been thinking some one-on-one time with you all might be a good next step.” She turned to T’Prena. “We could meet and discuss what I’ve observed thus far, and perhaps come out with a plan satisfying to us all?”

“Perhaps,” T’Prena said, in a tone Stadi would have sworn as ‘testy’ from any other species.

“I’m heading to the bridge,” Stadi said, turning her attention back to the Ocampa. Abol, especially, looked concerned still, so she made sure to catch his gaze. “I’ll bring up what we saw to the Captain.”

“Thank you, lieutenant,” Daggin said. He put a hand on Abol’s forearm. To Abol’s other side, Cir, the largest of the group, squeezed Abol’s shoulder.

She left them in Sick Bay, and headed for the bridge.

*

Commander Ro glanced up when Stadi entered the bridge.

“Everyone okay?” Ro said. Stadi’s knew call for medical would have been flagged as clear, but there was still nothing like a verbal confirmation that everyone was okay.

“We had a telepathic incident, but everyone is fine.” Stadi nodded, stepping down to the main bridge’s level, then pausing beside Ro. “But I’m wondering if we could take a brief detour to a binary star system on our way, just to check something out.”

“The Ocampa?” Ro said.

It wasn’t the first time the Ocampa had “felt” something worth investigating. They’d once found a pre-warp civilization with an entire network of stable polaric ion energy, which was a feat considered too dangerous to attempt in the Federation.

“It was incredible,” Stadi said. “For a few minutes, I could have sworn we were _there_.”

“There?” Ro said.

“Telepathically,” Stadi said. “And we saw two ships in serious trouble.”

Ro let out a small breath. “Daggin and Kes told me once in the past their people had great mental abilities.”

“I believe them,” Stadi said.

Ro nodded her head to the Ready Room. “Go ahead.” 

“Thank you,” Stadi said. “I’m hoping it’s a false alarm, like last time, but—“

“Commander? I’m getting a distress call,” Sahreen Lan said from Ops.

“It’s coming from a ship near a binary star system,” Rollins said, from Tactical.

“Captain to the bridge,” Ro said. She nodded at Stadi again, this time toward the Conn.

Stadi slid into the Conn, relieving Ensign Culhane.

Captain Cavit came out of his Ready Room. “Report?”

“Distress call from a ship in a binary star system,” Ro said. “And it’s possible the Ocampa already made telepathic contact.”

“Stadi, drop us out of warp, lay in a new course, and engage,” Cavit said. “Best speed.”

“Aye, sir,” Stadi said, adjusting the ship’s course once they were out of warp. She checked her navigational sensors and engaged the warp engines again. “Just shy of five minutes to the binary star system.”

“Anything in the Talaxian database to help us with the distress call?” Ro said.

Lieutenant Rollins worked his station, ultimately shaking his head. “The database doesn’t have much in the way of subspace frequency information, Commander, just ship configurations.”

“Scan the vessel as soon as possible, Mister Lan,” Cavit said.

“Aye, sir,” she replied.

The time ticked down slowly, and Stadi prepared herself for a scene of two broken ships left hanging in space, dark after the strange pulsing explosion, and likely lifeless.

“Arriving now,” she said, dropping out of warp.

“On screen,” Cavit said.

The viewscreen focused on two vessels, and Stadi stared, taken aback.

They were both intact, and clearly powered. The grey teardrop and the more typically-designed russet ship were there, in front of the binary stars. They were both fine.

Then Stadi’s eyes widened as something occurred to her. “Captain, raise the shields!”

“Rollins,” Cavit nodded.

“Shields up,” Rollins said.

“Stadi, why—” Ro started, but she was interrupted as in front of them on the viewscreen, between the two ships, something exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ensign Culhane is one of the background actors who was mentioned as taking the conn a few times, including when Paris was in jail for thirty days, I believe.
> 
> Also, three shuttles. This is my tongue-in-cheek "how come they kept having new shuttles?" solution, and I'm sticking with it.


	3. Act II

The bridge rocked, and Stadi worked to keep Voyager’s attitude stable.

“Shields holding at fifty percent!” Rollins called out. Behind him, a single panel sparked as the wave of energy struck Voyager’s shields. This time, the third wave so far, the effect didn’t hit the ship anywhere near as hard.

“The waves are reducing in effect,” Lan said.

On the screen, the arcing lashes of energy eruption from between the two ships were no longer blindingly bright, and the next wave to spread out from between the two ships dissipated before reaching Voyager.

It did, however, strike the final blow to the second ship, the teardrop-shaped one Stadi had seen in her shared vision with the Ocampa. She gritted her teeth, eyes on the viewscreen, as the ship’s shields gave way and the ship began to pitch to the side. The smaller ship was already broken, sections of the hull open to space

Exactly as she’d seen it before.

“Report. What was that?” Cavit said.

“Some kind of spatial rupture,” Lan said, eyes on her readings. “It’s still present, but the destructive eruptions have stopped.”

On screen, the tiny point of light between the two ships was still flickering, dimmer and dimmer as the seconds went by, but no lashes of energy seemed to form. Stadi’s navigational sensors were giving her all manner of strange readings. Whatever that object had done to cause those eruptions, the sensors were struggling to make sense of it.

“Was that a weapon?” Ro said.

“It could have been. It definitely wasn’t natural,” Lan said.

“Lifesigns on the ships?” Cavit rose from his chair. “Which one sent the distress call?”

“A few scattered lifesigns on both ships,” Lan said.

“The smaller ship sent the distress call, Captain,” Rollins said. “Talaxian database flags it as Banean. The larger one is a Numiri patrol ship.”

The words might as well have been gibberish, Stadi thought, given their names was almost all they knew about the alien races involved.

“Both ships have lost power,” Lan said. “The Banean ship’s hull is breached in multiple places.”

“Lock on to the life signs and beam survivors to Sick Bay.” Cavit tilted his head. “Bridge to Sick Bay, we’ve got wounded heading your way from two alien vessels.”

“Aye, Captain,” Fitzgerald said.

“Captain,” Lan said. “This whole area is flooded with anti-neutrinos after the spatial eruption.” She shook her head. “We can’t use transporters at this distance.”

“Engineering to bridge.” Honigsberg’s voice was sharp.

“Go ahead,” Cavit said.

“I’m going to have to take the plasma injectors offline and vent the manifold. The anti-neutrinos from those eruptions is pushing the plasma temperatures too high.”

“Understood,” Cavit said.

“That means no warp engines,” Ro said.

A rumble echoed distantly as the plasma manifold was vented.

“No warp engines,” Cavit repeated, nodding at her. “Let’s hope we don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. Assemble rescue parties.” He turned to the viewscreen. “We’ll have to use shuttles and shuttlepods.”

“Aye Captain,” Ro said. “Culhane?” she said, and the relief conn officer nodded, following her. She started for the turbolift. “Ro to Sick Bay. Doctor, I’m going to need you and Crewman Sullivan report to main shuttle bay. Transporters are out, so we’re taking shuttles over.” As the turbolift doors were closing, Ro began calling out to more crewmen.

Cavit crossed to the Conn, turning to Stadi. “Is this what you and the Ocampa saw?”

Stadi nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “Except for Voyager being here.”

“Bridge to Stellar Cartography,” Cavit said.

“Go ahead,” Lieutenant Zandra Taitt answered.

“Taitt, did you get readings on those waves that just hit us?”

“I did, sir.”

“Co-ordinate with Ensign Lan and Lieutenant Rollins. I want to know everything about that explosion.”

“Aye, sir. On my way.”

“First shuttle is ready to launch,” Lan said from Ops.

“Tell them to start with the furthest ship. They took a heavier hit,” Cavit said. “See if you can find them an airlock or point of entry.”

“Aye, sir.”

Stadi stared at the screen, waiting to catch sight of the shuttle on its way to the two listing ships. She could feel minds on those ships, though not many, faint and distant.

Hopefully the survivors could shed some light on what happened.

*

“Voyager to Shuttlecraft Drake. There’s an opening mechanism on the port side of the ship that has atmosphere on the other side. The life signs are in proximity,” Lan’s voice over the channel was all business. “There’s not a lot of area to cover.”

“Acknowledged,” Crewman Vance said adjusting his course. “I see it.”

“We’re right behind you,” Ensign Culhane said from the second shuttle.

From the second station, Ro looked out at the Banean ship. The arcing energy from the eruption had carved a swath through the hull of the ship on the starboard side, and glittering jewels of frozen oxygen and water expanded in a small cloud around the opening. She didn’t see any bodies yet, but she imagined they were there, floating in space.

Unless the energy wave had incinerated those in the affected areas of the ship. There was no way to be sure.

Soon the side of the ship loomed in front of them. She checked sensors. This close, it was easier to scan the interior, and she started to get a feel for this ship. Three decks, it was smaller than the Li Nalas had been, but from her readings, she was seeing a series of interior bulkheads had deployed, sealing off depressurized cabins with an efficiency that probably saved the few lives remaining.

It was a sleek little ship, and clearly designed to take a bit of a beating.

Well, the Talaxian database did mention the other species, the Numiri, were often aggressive and hostile.

“Maneuvering to dock,” Vance said, bringing the shuttle around effortlessly to align with the slow roll of the damaged Banean vessel. He was always confident and composed at the helm, and today was no exception, but she noticed dark smudges under his eyes.

She wondered if he’d been having trouble sleeping again, and made a mental note to talk to Doctor Fitzgerald about it later.

For his part, the doctor sat quietly behind her, waiting. The three of them would be the first aboard the Banean vessel. He had a medkit slung over one shoulder and his medical tricoder in his right hand.

“Can Dawkins dock somewhere else, or will you need to move off?” Fitzgerald asked, directing the question to Vance.

“This is the only access point we’ve got,” Vance said. “Locking onto their hull, and forming a seal… now.” He tapped his controls.

A slight tremor ran through the shuttle.

Ro and Fitzgerald got up and went to the rear hatch. Fitzgerald waited as Ro worked the panel, revealing the smooth outer hull and access hatch. The controls were dark, so she pulled a portable power cell from the shuttle’s supplies and pressed it against the hull by the controls, sealing it in place and powering it up.

The lights on the mechanism flickered on. Once it was powered, Ro’s tricorder gave her the sequence she needed and she opened the hatch.

The interior of the ship was dark, as expected. She activated her wrist beacon, as did Fitzgerald.

“I can get a lock on you with the transporters if I stay close enough,” Vance said. “So don’t worry, I won’t go far, and I’ll keep an open channel.” His voice had the light, amused humour he so often used to deflect tension.

“Thanks,” Ro said, stepping through onto the wrecked Benean ship. Almost immediately, her sense of up-and-down was lost as she moved from the shuttle’s artificial gravity into the weightlessness inside the Banean ship. “Watch your step, Doctor,” she said. “There’s no gravity.”

“Thanks for the warning,” he said, lowering himself through. He grimaced.

“Not a fan of Zero-G?” Ro said, holding onto the wall while she closed the hatch behind her.

“Is anyone a fan of Zero-G?” Fitzgerald aimed his wrist-beacon at the controls while she worked.

“I love it,” Vance said over the channel.

“Says the man in the shuttle,” Fitzgerald said. The hatch closed, he opened his tricorder, floating near the wall to give himself something to grab onto and push off if needed. “Oxygen is fine for now, and the temperature isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” He frowned. “What’s left of the engines seems to be putting off residual heat.”

“If their plasma reacted like ours did to the anti-neutrinos, that could be why,” Ro said. "These bulkheads are impressive."

"Definitely a ship ready for war." Fitzgerald raised his tricorder. “First life sign is this way.”

They pushed off into the darkness, their wrist-beacons lighting the way.

*

Kes finished prepping the small tables at each bio-bed, laying out what they might need for a number of common issues, and turned to T’Prena.

“I’m finished with the prep,” she said.

“Good.” T’Prena glanced at the tables briefly, then nodded.

Kes was about to ask if there was anything else she could do to prepare for their patients—she didn’t like just waiting—when Ensign Lan’s voice interrupted.

“Bridge to Sick Bay.”

“Go ahead, Ensign,” T’Prena said.

“Doctor Fitzgerald reports there are six survivors from the Banean ship, all unconscious. The first shuttle is on its way back with Sullivan, and he’s on his way to the Numiri vessel. He’s asked that we turn the Holodecks into recovery areas as well, given the number of life signs from they’ve already picked up.”

“Understood,” T’Prena said. She turned to Kes, and Kes nodded in anticipation.

“I can help with that,” she said.

“The basic program is on file, but you’ll need to bring triage and medical equipment with you,” T’Prena said. “I’ll handle Holodeck 1, you take Holodeck 2.”

Kes nodded, and went to gather what she needed.

Behind her, she heard T’Prena activate the Emergency Medical Hologram.

“Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

“Six wounded aliens are arriving, all are unconscious. Their ship took severe damage and lost all power. There will also be more survivors arriving from another ship, different species. We’re activating the holodecks for recovery and triage.” T’Prena didn’t stop moving as she spoke, and soon she and Kes were ready to leave Sick Bay.

“An actual emergency, then,” the hologram said.

T’Prena raised one arched eyebrow. “Indeed.”

Kes and T’Prena left the hologram there, waiting.

*

An hour later, Captain Cavit stepped onto Holodeck 1. The medical setting created a simple, utilitarian triage set-up, with two rows of six beds, though only two thirds of them were full. At one end, Fitzgerald and T’Prena stood over one of the patients, scanning the alien with a medical tricorder and talking quietly to each other.

He approached, taking the opportunity to look at the aliens as he passed. The Numiri were reptilian, with an earthy brown scaled skin. Their nose and lower lip formed an almost pointed shape.

None of them were awake. None of them so much as stirred.

Fitzgerald looked up at him as he approached the final bed.

“How are our guests?” Cavit said.

“Six Banean survivors and eighteen Numiri,” Fitzgerald said. “Of those, only six were in serious need of surgery—three Baneans, three Numiri—which we handled, and only two remain in serious condition. For the most part, the rest of the survivors are in good condition, given what they’ve been through.” Fitzgerald raised his right hand and gestured to the room. “Except they’re all unconscious.”

“No idea why?” Cavit said, reading Fitzgerald’s frustration.

The doctor shook his head. “It must be something to do with the explosion, but I can’t isolate a physical reason.”

“And it affected two different species the same way,” Cavit said. The aliens he’d seen in Sick Bay had borne feathered crests alongside their hair, and a much softer, leaner build.

“They are not that different,” T’Prena said. “The Numiri and he Banea share seventy eight precent of their key genetic markers. Logic would suggest they evolved on the same planet.”

Cavit knew it wasn’t unheard of for two humanoid species to evolve on a single homeworld, though it was decidedly rare. The Xindi, for one. And there were two humanoid morphologies as well as the symbionts on the Trill homeworld, too.

“Can you wake them?” Cavit said.

“I’d rather not,” Fitzgerald said. “Until I know why it’s happening, I won’t want to force them out of it. It could be a natural response to trauma, or…” He frowned. “The Ocampa.”

“Pardon?” Cavit said.

“Something Stadi said this morning. The Ocampa had a shared vision of these ships, and the explosion, _before_ it happened. And they all passed out. Stadi said it could have been a sort of telepathic reflex to protect them from trauma.”

“When faced with telepathic threat, some species do turn to unconsciousness to cope,” T’Prena agreed.

“You think this might be telepathically induced?” Cavit said.

“I’m not sure,” Fitzgerald said. “But the Ocampa having the same reaction might indicate—”

“Bridge to Captain Cavit.” Rollins’s voice interrupted them.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Cavit said.

“Sir, we’ve just picked up three ships on long-range scanners. They match the Numiri vessel. They’re on an intercept course at warp seven. At their current speed, they’ll be here in an hour and forty-seven minutes.”

“I’m on my way,” Cavit said. He turned to Fitzgerald. “I’d really like to have some answers for them when they get here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Fitzgerald said.

Cavit left him to it.


	4. Act III

“They’re hailing us,” Rollins said.

Cavit nodded. “On screen.”

A Numiri appeared, standing in the centre of a large, open bridge that struck him as far too militaristic for his tastes. Around him, at various stations, others stood or sat at consoles. Their uniforms, black and grey, didn’t have obvious rank insignia, but each bore a side-arm.

“I am Commander Si’Lann of the Numiri Sovereignty Ship Torala. Why have you violated Numiri space and attacked our vessel?” The Numiri’s question, and her tone, were distinctly unfriendly.

“I’m Captain Aaron Cavit of the Federation Starship Voy—” he began, but she cut him off.

“We’re well aware of your vessel, Captain.” Her narrow nostrils flicked. “You have attacked multiple ships. You will not find the Numiri as easy prey as Kazon.”

“Our fights with the Kazon have all been in self-defence,” Cavit said, holding up a hand. “And the reason we’re near your ships here is our answering of a distress call. We’ve rescued—”

“A Banean distress call,” the commander interrupted again.

“Yes,” Cavit said. “I believe so. But both ships were heavily damaged, and we brought survivors aboard for medical—”

“You will remain where you are, and upon our arrival we will impound your ship.”

“Listen, Commander, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot here, and—”

The screen blinked, returning to the view of the two broken ships.

Cavit blew out a breath, turning to Ro. “Well. That could have gone better.”

“What’s the status on the warp engines?” Ro said.

“We can’t reinitialize the plasma injectors until the anti-neutrinos dissipate,” Stadi said.

“Status of repairs?” Cavit said. Their damage had been minor, and mostly it had been the shields impacted.

“Shields are restored,” Rollins said.

“Call the senior staff,” Cavit said. “If we’re going to be here when the Numiri arrive, I’d like to be able to prove our innocence.”

*

“What have we learned from the sensor logs?” Cavit said, sitting at the head of the table in the briefing room.

Lieutenant Taitt and Ensign Lan both turned to face him, and both bore expressions that didn’t fill Cavit with confidence.

“That bad?” Ro said, obviously noting the same thing.

Taitt waved a hand. “The eruption and resulting waves of radiant energy were created by an artificially induced spatial rift.” She tapped the display and Cavit watched as a single point in space was pulled apart along a single dimension, causing the build-up and release of the oscillating waves of destruction he’d seen on the bridge.

“So it _was_ a weapon,” Commander Ro said.

“It’s hard to come to any other conclusion,” Lieutenant Rollins said.

“I have to agree.” Taitt nodded. “The way space was folded in on itself, isolated and pulled apart, and specifically the distance created between the folded origin point? It was done to deal damage.”

“It’s also effectively cuts off warp drives,” Lieutenant Honigsberg added.

“Whether by design or side-effect,” Taitt said. “The spacial fold is almost completely closed now, but as long as it’s even slightly open it continues to emit anti-neutrinos.”

“Set one of those off in a battle in the right place, and you leave any enemy ships unable to chase you,” Ro said. “Assuming they survived the initial blasts.” 

Lan nodded. “The Numiri ship fared better because of what appears to be regenerative shielding, and they were further away from the initial detonation.” She tapped the screen and the positions rotated to become clearer. She was right, the explosion had happened _much_ closer to the Banean ship.

“So, this still supports our theory of a Numiri weapon,” Cavit said.

“It’s still our best guess,” Lan said. “At least it was until they accused us of firing on their ship. They were better set up to resist the effects, and the detonation was closer to… the Banea…” She frowned, then shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Ensign?” Ro said.

“Memory flash,” Lan said. “This scenario reminded me of Dolay Lan’s experiences with Cardassian orbital mines.” She shook her head. “Symbiont pregnancy isn’t for the weak.”

Cavit shared a concerned glance with Ro, but Fitzgerald shook his head, and held up one hand. “It’s fine,” he said.

“This is apparently a symptom I’m going to have to live with, and it’s not threatening.” She smiled at Dr. Fitzgerald ruefully. “We’ve both been reading up on symbiont reproduction—what we can find, anyway—and it looks like this is how the offspring are imprinted with some of the basics of their neuro-electrical language.”

“I suppose it’s better than sneezing,” Ro said.

“Sneezing?”

“Sorry.” Ro shook her head. “Bajoran thing.” She turned her attention back to the displays. “So, do we think the Numiri are lying?”

“Nothing I scanned on the Banean vessel spoke of that sort of weaponry,” Lieutenant Rollins said. “It’s a smaller ship, and while have impressive directed energy weapons—something like spiral-wave disruptors—unless it was completely obliterated, I didn’t see anything capable of causing a spacial distortion, and nothing like a torpedo launcher. I’d call it a scout ship—built for speed. But nothing obviously matched on the Numiri ship, either.”

“Did you pick up any traces of tetrahedral quartz?” Taitt said.

“No.” Rollins shook his head, clearly surprised. “But I wasn’t looking for it.”

“Tetrahedral quartz?” Ro said.

Taitt pointed at the display, moving her hand in a circle around the image. “Around the edges of the dispersal, the sensors caught trace amounts of particulate matter. Tetrahedral quartz.”

“I can take a team over in EV suits and magboots for a more thorough search,” Honingsberg said. “The Banean bridge was destroyed, but the Numiri ship fared better.”

“How long do we have left until the Numiri ships arrive?” Cavit said.

“An hour and twenty minutes, give or take,” Rollins said.

“And until we regain our warp engines?” Cavit said.

“At least two,” Honigsberg said. “Assuming the dispersal of the anti-neutrinos continues on the same curve.”

“Take a team,” Cavit said. “I want to know everything that happened before they get here. But I want you back on Voyager before the Numiri get here.” He turned to Fitzgerald. “Doctor, I know you don’t want to wake any of these people, but if it comes to it, can you?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“But you _can_?” Cavit couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing “that thing” with his eyes. He hated pushing Jeff like this, but if it came to the safety of the crew or risking the health of a single Banean patient, he wouldn't hesitate to take that risk. 

Fitzgerald’s steely-blue eyes stared right back at him. He swallowed. “I can. But—”

“I understand. Last resort,” Cavit said.

Fitzgerald nodded, looking at least partially mollified.

“Okay, you all know what to do,” Cavit said, turning back to them all. “We’re on the clock.”

*

“Any changes?” Fitzgerald said, though it was perfectly clear the Baneans were all still comatose the moment he looked around Sick Bay.

Still, T’Prena answered him. “None. Their metabolic rates have all stabilized, their reflexes seem normal, and yet they remain unconscious.”

“Engineering is sending a team over to the Numiri vessel to see if they can shed some light on what happened.” He took a breath. “If they can’t, it might be up to us to wake them.” He looked down at one of the unconscious aliens, who sported beautiful red feathers along his temples that gave way to auburn hair. “Given the Banean ship was all but destroyed, I’d like to focus on the Banea—hopefully Honigsberg and his people can figure out what happened on the Numiri vessel and we won’t need to wake the Numiri at all. Do we have the bloodwork results? I’d like to take another look at their adrenals.”

“Yes, doctor.” T’Prena went to go get them.

Fitzgerald closed his eyes for a moment, trying hard not to let his frustration get the better of him. He knew Aaron would never ask him to put a patient in harm’s way without dire need, but it was looking like dire need was bearing down on them. Aaron’s eyes in the briefing room, unblinking and cool, letting him know he knew full well what he was asking of him…

T’Prena brought him a PADD and he thanked her. He called up the results and started cataloguing stimulants in his mind. He went to the master display of all the patients and was surprised to find Kes standing there, looking up at the readings.

“Kes?” he said.

“I thought if I looked at all of their brain patterns, I might figure out what was keeping them from regaining consciousness.” She turned to him, shaking her head slightly. “I’m not having much luck.”

“The humanoid brain still has a lot of mysteries for us, even the ones we’ve been studying for centuries,” Fitzgerald said. Then, remembering how much she wanted to learn about medicine, he regarded her. “In case I have to wake them, I’m considering which stimulant to use. What would you choose?”

She smiled at him. She truly seemed to enjoy these impromptu tests.

“Because of the structure of their respiratory systems, I know I’d rule out cordafin or any of the drugs in that family,” she said. She tilted her head. “Given how close their brain activity seems to be to sleep, would cortropine be a good place to start? Haven’t I read it’s used to treat narcolepsy?”

“You have, and that’s my current first choice, once I look at their adrenals.” Fitzgerald couldn’t help but smile at her, despite his misgivings over forcing the Baneans to wake. “Kes, you really have a knack for this.”

“Thank you,” Kes said, clearly pleased. She walked with him back to the patient he’d been looking at earlier. “Why is it you’re looking at the adrenals?”

“Cortropine dosage is finicky,” Fitzgerald said. “As little as five milligrams can have an effect, so if the Banea have a natural intolerance to stimulants, it would be all to easy to overdose.”

"I understand." Kes nodded. She reached out, putting her hand on the shoulder of the man with the auburn hair and red feathers. “I hope we…”

Her eyes rolled back.

*

“Doctor?” Kes turned, but she was no longer in Sick Bay.

She wasn’t on Voyager at all. She turned, and stood face-to-face with the auburn-haired Banean man, the one with the pretty red feathers. He was walking down a narrow hallway, and she was walking with him…

Except no. No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t _there_ , exactly, just… _with_ him.

The man crossed through a doorway that opened as he approached, and stepped onto what appeared to be a bridge. It reminded Kes a bit of the Li Nalas—compact, streamlined—and there were more of the Banea at each of the stations, though none of them were people she recognized from Sick Bay.

And among them, standing with a tall Banean woman at the back of the bridge, was someone else. The man didn’t look like a Banean. He had no feathers, reminding Kes more of humans for the most part, though the man wore an elaborately styled thread of some sort around his head, woven into his hair. Unlike the Baneans, who all wore uniforms of various shades of amber and green, this man looked more casually dressed.

“There’s no time for this,” the Banean woman said, shaking her head. “The Numiri warship will be here in moments.”

“The price is the price,” the man replied, apparently unmoved.

“If we don’t—” the woman started, and Kes wanted to go to her, to hear what she was saying, but it was like Kes was tethered to the auburn-haired, red-feathered man somehow, and he handed something that looked like a small PADD to one of the people at a station in the bridge, and then turned and left the bridge again.

The doors closed behind him, cutting off the conversation.

The man was walking down the hallway when a series of lights and sounds announced an emergency. He turned, and started running for somewhere else. Kes stayed with him, following as he slipped into a smaller room and took a station beside a woman—this one she did recognize from Sick Bay—and the two shared an anxious glance as someone announced the arrival of a Numiri warship.

The displays on the consoles the two worked at meant nothing to Kes, though they appeared to be include schematics of the Banean ship itself. Perhaps this was Engineering?

Suddenly, the ship lurched beneath them, and the two cried out. The displays turned from pale blue to a bright gold, flashing warnings, and then another impact on the ship darkened them all completely.

“We need to—“ the woman started to speak, and then her eyes rolled back in her head.

A moment later, the same happened to the auburn-haired, red-feathered man.

*

“Kes?” someone had her by the shoulders.

She blinked, coming back to herself. T’Prena and Doctor Fitzgerald were standing beside her. It was the Doctor holding her shoulders.

“I…” She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. “I was on the Banean ship. With this man,” she pointed at the patient. “I saw the bridge.”

T’Prena tilted her head. “You made telepathic contact with him?”

“I think so,” Kes said. “But it was more like a memory. I don’t think he knew I was there.” She turned to the doctor. “Doctor, there was someone else on the Banean bridge. Not a Banean. He was a different species. He and a woman were arguing about a price, and the arrival of the Numiri.”

Fitzgerald tapped his combadge. “Fitzgerald to Cavit.”

“Go ahead.”

“Aaron, can you come down here to Sick Bay?” Fitzgerald said. He eyed Kes, and then the patient. “And bring Stadi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of Tom reliving the last moments of a murdered man, I figured some Ocampan telepathy could serve a similar purpose for the same "feel" of 'Ex Post Facto' in this retelling.


	5. Act IV

The three Starfleet engineers stepped onto the darkened Numiri bridge with the hesitant, awkward gait of magboots. Their helmet lights cast sharp beams through the space, where two of the ship’s original crew’s bodies were still at their stations.

“We don’t know their practices,” Honigsberg said. “So I don’t want to move them. You two okay?”

Both Ensign Ballard and Ensign Swinn gave him a subdued ‘yes, sir.’ They all pulled out their tricorders.

“Ballard, see if you can access their weapon systems. Swinn, navigation. I’m going to try to recover their sensor logs,” he kept his voice even and all-business, and fought the urge to raise his hand to his chin.

He couldn’t rub his goatee anyway, what with the EV suit. 

They worked mostly in silence, attaching portable power units to restore panels and interfaces, translating the controls through the UTs embedded in their tricorders. The computer network the Numiri vessel used wasn’t too far beyond systems Honigsberg had worked with in the past, but the layers of encryption and protection between him and the sensor logs made it perfectly clear this was a military vessel and concerned with keeping itself from enemy hands.

“They’re not making it easy to recovery any data, are they?” Honigsberg said, mostly to break the silence he knew was, in part, due to their “company” on the bridge.

“No kidding,” Ballard said. “It’s like peeling an onion.”

“Even their navigational records are encoded,” Swinn said. “But I think I’ve almost got it.”

Honigsberg was having similar success, at least with the first level of lockouts he needed to bypass. When he finally convinced the system he was someone meant to be there, the next level of the interface required bypassing another layer of protection.

“I’ve got the navigational records,” Swinn said. “I’m downloading them now.”

“Well done,” Honigsberg said, still working.

Ballard’s softer grunt was perhaps less congratulatory.

It took them another fifteen minutes of their already limited time to get through to the weapon system logs—once Swinn had downloaded her data she moved across the bridge to help Ballard—and another ten for Honigsberg to finally crack through to the sensor logs.

“I’m in,” he said, starting the download. “Vance, we’ll be on our way back shortly.”

“Copy that,” Crewman Vance said over the open channel.

The tricorder trilled to let him know the download was complete. “Okay, let’s go. Good work, both of you.”

They turned to go, leaving the Numiri bridge as lifeless as they’d found it.

*

With half their time gone, Honigsberg didn’t want to waste any more. As soon as they were aboard, he ordered Vance to move the shuttle away from the Numiri dock.

“Captain wants us to take a closer look at what’s left of the Banean bridge,” Vance said. “They think there may have been a third alien race involved.”

Honigsberg eyed the other two, then pulled off his helmet. “Let’s get out of these suits and get to work, then. We’re not going to have a lot of time to look through what we’ve found. Make sure you transfer your data to Voyager, but we can start analyzing it right here.”

By the time they’d stored the suits, they were almost at the Banean ship’s former bridge, approaching it against the slow rotation the ship had been making since it was destroyed.

“There’s nothing here about a spacial weapon,” Ballard said, holding the PADD she’d transferred the weapons data to. “They diverted their power to the shields—they have a regenerative harmonic technology I’d love to spend some time examining—but according to their own weapons log, they hadn’t fired their energy weapons in days, and their last torpedo launch was over a week ago.”

“That lines up with the sensor logs,” Honigsberg said with a sigh. “In fact, they were almost lucky to spot the Banean ship in the first place. Their sensors aren’t particularly acute at longer range, and the Banean ship had a small sensor profile.”

“They were on a routine patrol,” Swinn said. “A pattern they’ve flown dozens of times before without incident, but they adjusted their course after they picked up the Banean ship. This is technically outside their borders, but not by much.”

“Anyone else starting to feel like the Numiri didn’t fire the first shot?” Ballard said.

Honigsberg couldn’t disagree. He turned away from his own readings, and pulled up the shuttle’s sensors. “Let’s look at the Banean ship.”

“I’ll get you within kissing range, Lieutenant,” Vance said. “Any closer than that and you’ll have to propose.”

Honigsberg couldn’t help but smile at the pilot’s confidence. He’d certainly displayed the skill to back it up. Vance had a kind of rough-and-tumble look to him, with a scarred eyebrow and a nose that seemed to have been broken once or twice, as though he was a man perpetually just one more drink away from a bar fight, but Honigsberg had to admit it wasn’t a bad look for the pilot.

The bridge of the Banean vessel slowly rotated into view. Vance adjusted the motion of the shuttle to match, and if Honigsberg ignored the stars beyond the ship, it almost looked as though the Banean ship was slowing down. Finally, they matched the rotation.

“Honigsberg to Voyager,” Honigsberg said, opening a channel. “We’re as close as we’re going to get. Any hints on what we should be looking for?”

“According to Kes, there was an alien at the back of the bridge, neither Numiri or Banean,” Commander Ro said.

“ _Kes_?” Ballard said behind him, albeit quietly.

“Acknowledged,” Honigsberg said, sharing an equally perplexed look with Ballard before nodding. “Lets scan for any organics first.” He had no idea how Kes would know anything about the Banean ship, but a lead was a lead.

“I’m picking up Banean DNA traces,” Swinn said from the station opposite. “The radiant energy arcs from the spacial distortion burned away almost everything.”

“Focus on the rear of the bridge, then,” Honigsberg said, watching the readings on his own display. “Tighten the sensors.”

They worked almost as silently has they had on the Numiri bridge, all aware both of the ticking clock and the reality of what each trace of organic matter they discovered truly was.

“Wait,” Swinn said. She highlighted a reading. “What about this?”

Honigsberg eyed it. “Agreed.” Trace readings had been burned into a small section of a rear bulkhead. Definitely organic, definitely complex, and absolutely not a match for the Banean DNA.

“How much time do we have left?” Honigsberg said.

“Ten minutes,” Vance said.

Honigsberg frowned. No time for an EV maneuver. “Beam it over.”

Ballard blinked. “The whole bulkhead?”

“Whatever we can get,” Honigsberg said.

“Aye, sir.” Ballard’s smile made it clear she appreciated his blunt solution to the problem at hand. Her direct manner had been one of the reasons he’d wanted her on his team, too.

“Vance,” Honigsberg said. “As soon as that metal is aboard, punch it for Voyager. I don’t want to be out here when the Numiri arrive.”

“Understood.”

*

Kes placed her hand on the shoulder of the red-feathered, auburn-haired Banean.

Nothing happened.

“It’s not working,” Kes said.

Stadi felt her frustration, and beyond that, the rising worry threatening Kes’s concentration. She shook her head. “You weren’t actively trying to make telepathic contact last time, Kes, so I don’t think forcing it this time isn’t going to work.”

Kes, to her credit, moved her hand, took a deep breath, and nodded. Stadi felt her trying to restore her thoughts back to a calm, clear mind.

“Any ideas?” Cavit said.

He and Fitzgerald had been standing to one side, as unobtrusively as possible. Beside them, T’Prena watched, her face as impassive as always, but Stadi could sense something from the Vulcan woman as well.

Reluctance.

That was interesting. She met T’Prena’s gaze, not wanting to let the men in the room know she’d felt something, but wanting T’Prena to understand she wouldn’t speak up without her permission.

T’Prena tilted her head slightly, and spoke up. “I could attempt a meld.”

Fitzgerald and Cavit both turned to her. Fitzgerald was frowning.

“With an unconscious alien we can’t wake up?” He shook his head. “I’m no expect on mind melds, but even I know those are two circumstances weighing in against the idea.”

“It is less than ideal,” T’Prena said. “But if I were able to re-create the experience Kes had, I might be able to see more of what occurred on the Banean bridge before the explosion hit.”

“But he left the bridge,” Kes said, nodding at the red-feathered, auburn-haired man.

“Where did we find the other survivors?” Stadi said, looking around the Sick Bay. “None of them were recovered from the bridge, right?”

“No,” Fitzgerald said. “The bridge was open to space.” He pointed. “We found her with this one, in a smaller room on the middle deck. They were in engineering…” He paused, then turned to a woman with soft snow-white feathers and pale blond hair. “But this woman was directly below the bridge, in what we think was their version of a turbolift. The bulkhead had closed right above it in the shaft, but… She had serious burns, even though the lift was intact. She could have come from the bridge.”

Stadi eyed the woman, allowing herself to sense her. The woman’s presence was clear, and deep, and still. By all signs, she was just asleep. But… Stadi closed her eyes, filtering out everyone else in the room, and allowing her sense of this woman to be the only thing she focused on.

No. She wasn’t just asleep. There were voices. Soft, repeating gentle voices telling the woman to stop doing what she was doing… for _all of them_ to _stop_ …

Stadi opened her eyes. “We need the rest of the Ocampa,” she said. “I think we can reach her, but I think we need the whole chorus.”

“Chorus?” Cavit said, frowning, but Fitzgerald was already nodding and tapping his combadge, calling the rest of the Ocampa to Sick Bay.

Kes was looking at her with interest. “How can we help?” she said.

“I think we need all of you to tell them to wake up,” Stadi said. “Because I’m pretty sure you’re the ones who told them all to fall asleep in the first place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ocampa did what-now? Oops.
> 
> Also, one of the nice things about fanfic is being able to use Swinn and Ballard now and then, long before they showed up in Voyager canon. An engineering crew doing engineering things seems more likely than sending over half the senior staff.


	6. Act V

Daggin opened his eyes and felt a thrill of excitement rush through his chest. It had worked!

 _Stay focused_. Stadi’s thoughts were calm and cool, and he reminded himself to stay calm. It was hard advice to follow—he and the others were all standing on the bridge of the Banean ship, each of them visible to each other, but completely ignored by the Banean officers manning stations or moving around the area.

He felt caught, too. Tethered in some way to the woman with downy white feathers and pale hair who was at a station near the rear half of the bridge. He looked over her shoulder at what she was doing on her display, but didn’t understand what he saw.

 _There_ , Kes’s thoughts somehow directed his attention further to the back of the bridge. _That one_.

At the furthest point of the rear of the bridge, a man stood with a taller Banean woman. The man had no feathers, and instead wore an elaborately styled thread of some sort around his head, woven into his hair. He wasn’t uniformed, either, wearing something casual and grey-toned instead of one of the various dual-toned uniforms of amber and green the Banean officers sported.

“It’s a reasonable price, captain,” the man said.

“But more than we discussed,” the Banean captain said, clearly irritated. “And I can’t agree to it.”

“I’m not sure how you have a choice.” The man’s tone went from mildly amused to something closer to smug.

 _I don’t like him_ , Cir’s thoughts—a soft rumble, much like his voice—passed through the group. Daggin could feel Eru’s agreement as well.

“There’s no time for this,” the Banean captain said, shaking her head. “The Numiri warship will be here in moments.”

“The price is the price,” the man replied, apparently unmoved.

“If we don’t leave soon, they will catch us all. Yourself included.” She crossed her arms.

“I can fold back to my ship,” the man said, far from threatened. “Our masking technology is more than a match for their sensors.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Or perhaps the Numiri will be willing to pay our price.” He held up a small device in one hand.

Everything about the tall Banean captain’s posture and attitude changed then. She straightened, and nodded at the white-feathered woman they were all tethered to. The second woman rose swiftly from her station, and pressed a small weapon into the back of the alien man.

“Hand it over,” the captain said, holding out her hand.

“Don’t be foolish. My people have a lock on me,” the man said, shaking his head. “Fold me back, Koril. Our business here is done.” It was clear he wasn’t speaking to someone on the bridge.

“I… I can’t…” A voice came from the small pendant the man wore. “They’ve done something to their shields.”

Now the man’s confidence looked far from present. “What are you doing?”

The captain took the device from him. She tapped the screen. “I’ve got the co-ordinates of the mine,” she said. “We’ll bring it aboard.”

“I can’t allow that.” The voice came from the pendant again, but it wasn’t the same one that had spoken before. This was a deeper voice, also apparently male, but definitely cooler. Calmer.

“No,” the man spoke, not seeming to care there was still a weapon to his back. “No, please, please don’t!”

“I’m sorry,” the same cold voice repeated.

The Banean captain turned her attention to the front of the ship. “Shields up. Send a distress call!”

“You can’t!” The man’s voice rose. “Fold me back! You can’t leave me here!”

“Captain,” another Banean spoke now. “The Numiri vessel is dropping out of warp.”

“Goodbye,” the cold voice said.

“No!” the man shoved backwards, knocking the armed officer with the soft-white feathers back. She stumbled, but before she could raise her weapon to fire, something struck the ship, hard. The wall-panel beside her exploded, and a gout of fire struck her. She jumped back, landing in what appeared to be a kind of turbolift, and the doors closed and Daggin knew the destruction of her ship was imminent…

…and he heard himself, and the other Ocampa, cry out in worry and fear for the crew. Not now, not as they were witnessing these events from Sick Bay, but from back then, when they’d somehow slipped to the point where it was happening during their telepathic practice.

The woman’s eyes rolled back into her head, and she dropped in the elevator.

 _Okay_ , Stadi’s voice returned. _Now tell her it’s okay. Tell her this already happened, but it’s over, and she’s safe on Voyager._

“You’re okay,” Daggin said, both with his voice and his mind. “We have you.”

He could feel the others with him as well, all of them impossibly fitting in the small turbolift with him, all around her.

The woman’s eyes opened, and they were all back in Sick Bay between blinks.

Daggin swayed, shaking his head at the sudden transition.

“Where… where am I?” the Banean woman said.

“You’re on the Federation Starship Voyager,” Fitzgerald said, leaning over the bio-bed where the woman lay prone. “We found your ship and rescued the survivors.”

“The Numiri,” the woman said.

“Are almost here, and think we attacked them. We need to know what happened.”

“They were buying a new weapon,” Daggin said. “A spatial mine.”

The woman’s lips thinned, but she didn’t speak.

“The man they were buying from asked for more,” Kes said. “And then threatened to sell the mine to the Numiri instead.”

“They tried to take the mine by force, but the seller decided to detonate it rather than let them take it,” Daggin said, shaking his head. “Neither of them fired. It was someone else. But we were there, in a way, we saw it all.” Daggin turned to the others. The Ocampa were all looking at each other with a mix of wonder and embarrassment—especially from Abol, who felt the most responsible—on their faces. They’d knocked all these people unconscious. And the crew of the Numiri vessel, too.

And maybe…

“Do you think we did the same thing on the other alien’s ship?” Daggin said, turning to Stadi.

Stadi eyes widened. Then she tapped her combadge. “Stadi to bridge. Captain, there was a third ship here when the spatial mine went off—a weapon’s dealer. They’re the ones who detonated it. And there’s a good chance they’re still here. Their ship was cloaked, though.”

“Acknowledged,” Cavit said. “If that means you’re available for the conn, Stadi, our friends are almost here.”

Stadi turned to the Ocampa. “You know what to do?”

Daggin nodded at her, remembering what it felt like to reach the woman on the bio-bed and coax her back to consciousness. “We can wake the rest.”

“And the Numiri,” Kes added.

“I’m on my way, Captain,” Stadi said.

*

“We haven’t found another ship,” Cavit said as Stadi crossed the bridge. “You’re sure they’re not long gone?”

“I’m not completely certain, captain.” Stadi relieved Ensign Culhane, pulling up the navigational sensors and noting the near arrival of the Numiri ships. “But I think it’s possible they’re unconscious, and have been since we got here. The Ocampa accidentally sent everyone on the Banean and Numiri vessels to sleep when they made telepathic contact the first time, and the same could have happened to a third vessel.”

“I’m scanning,” Lan said. “But if it’s cloaked, we might not be able to detect anything.”

“Anything from the sensors logs that can help?” Cavit said.

“We’re working on it,” Honigsberg said. He was standing with Taitt at the science station.

“I’m not seeing anything in the Numiri sensor logs to reveal a third ship,” Taitt said. “But their sensors aren’t as effective as ours.”

“Captain,” Rollins said.

On the viewscreen, the three Numiri vessels dropped out of warp. Stadi checked their position, and realized they were still a significant distance away, likely avoiding the anti-neutrinos still present in the radius around the mine.

Wait. The anti-neutrinos.

“Is there any way to use the anti-neutrinos to detect a cloaked ship?” She glanced at Taitt.

Taitt and Honigsberg exchanged a glance, frowning.

“I don’t think so,” Honigsberg said. “Tachyons, yes, or maybe—”

“Tetrahedral quartz.” Taitt straightened.

“We’re being hailed,” Lan said.

Cavit exchanged a tense look with Ro. “Taitt,” Cavit said. “Whatever idea you’ve got, you can explain it later. Do it.” He turned to Lan. “Open the channel.”

Stadi couldn’t help but feel the excitement coming from Taitt, but forced herself to look up at the viewscreen. She heard Taitt talking quietly with Honigsberg, and his own voice rising slightly in response. Whatever idea she had, he understood it and thought it had merit.

On the screen, the same Numiri as before, Commander Si’Lann, appeared.

“You will lower your shields, prepare for boarding, and turn all control of your vessel over to us.” The woman didn’t re-amble, that was for sure. And she meant every word of it. Even from this distance, Stadi could feel her determination and anger.

“I’m afraid not,” Cavit said, rising from his chair. “But I can tell you, commander, that there was a third vessel here trying to sell a spatial mine to the Baneans, and they detonated the device. We have some of both crews, and we’ve seen to their medical—”

“You expect me to believe some other alien vessel was here, survived an altercation between the two ships, and you just arrived in time to offer humanitarian aid, commander?” Commander Si’Lann said, with a little twist to her flared nostrils that telegraphed disbelief.

“It’s captain,” Cavit said, crossing his arms. “And yes. We treated all the survivors. Voyager received the Banean distress call and—”

“ _Lower your shields_.”

“I won’t allow you to board my—”

The visual cut off.

“—ship.” Cavit sighed.

“They’re powering weapons,” Rollins said.

“Taitt?” Ro said.

Taitt and Honisgberg didn’t pause or look up, but Taitt started speaking. “If the quartz came from the mine, it would have been dispersed from a single point. We’re trying to see if there’s a… shadow or disruption where the particulate quartz struck a cloaked vessel, but we need some time.”

“Rollins, what are we looking at?” Cavit said.

“One-on-one, we’d be pretty evenly matched, captain,” Rollins said. “If I had to guess, their disruptors aren’t quite as strong as our phasers, but they’ve got regenerative shielding.” He looked up. “And there are three of them.”

“Their sensors aren’t terribly acute,” Lan said. “We might be able to disrupt their targeting systems with ion pulses.”

“Anything we do risks further scattering the quartz particulates,” Honigsberg said.

“Stadi?” Ro said.

“They’re pretty far off, I’ve got room to maneuver,” she said, knowing what Ro was asking. “But if they spread out, and we don’t try to leave the area, that’s going to close up fast.”

“Do your best,” Ro said.

“Yes, sir.” Stadi smiled, feeling herself drop into the zone. Phasing out the distraction of the minds around her and focusing solely on the three ships and the way they were already spreading out on the far side of the two broken vessels hanging in space.

All three fired at once.

“Incoming torpedoes,” Rollins said.

“Red Alert. Evasive, conn,” Cavit said.

Stadi tucked Voyager into the shadow of the Numiri vessel, neatly dodging two of the three torpedoes and allowing the third to strike the powerless ship.

She wouldn’t have it as a duckblind for long, given the way the three ships were forming a triangle on the other side, but while she could use it, she would.

“They’re firing again,” Rollins said.

Stadi changed course.

*

Every torpedo was making it harder to look for the needle in their haystack. Taitt scowled at the sensor readings as though willpower alone would give her more data to work with, but they were operating with so many unknown variables. They didn’t know the size of the ship, or how near or far it would have been to the spatial mine. Those two facts alone were enough to make searching the particulate matter spread near impossible, but it was all she had.

Voyager shook as one of the torpedoes struck the shields.

“There, there, or there…” Honigsberg said, beside her, clearly just as annoyed as she was.

“Or there,” she said, pointing.

“Don’t mean to rush you,” Ro said from her chair. “But how’s it coming over there?”

“Four possibilities, maybe more,” she said. “I’m afraid this is more educated guessing than something precise.”

“Feed the co-ordinates to tactical,” Cavit said. “Rollins, target phasers, lowest setting. We’re not trying to do damage, just to show our friends we’re not alone.”

“Understood.”

Taitt called up the co-ordinates, finding another possibility even as she did so. “And another,” she said, adding it to the list.

“Incoming,” Rollins said.

Voyager shook again.

“I’m running out of wiggle room,” Stadi said.

“Shields at seventy-four percent,” Rollins said.

“Every torpedo makes this harder,” Taitt said.

“Hail them,” Cavit said. “We need them to stop firing long enough to find this damn ship.”

“Hailing,” Lan said.

Another spread of torpedoes from their attackers was the only response. Another hit.

“Keep trying, Lan.” Cavit tilted his head. “Bridge to Fitzgerald. Doctor, if any of the Numiri are awake and willing to tell their friends we helped them…”

“We just woke their navigator,” Fitzgerald said. “He’s groggy but I’ll get him to the bridge.”

“I’ve got nine potential locations,” Taitt said. “The torpedoes are making any more attempts all but useless. Sending them to you now, Lieutenant.” She entered the command, then met Rollins’s gaze, and he nodded at her.

“Locking on and firing.” The sound of the phasers firing was clearly off, and Taitt realized the setting was so low it was robbing the directed energy of its usual timbre.

“No hits,” Lan said.

“Two down,” Rollins said. “Firing.”

“No hits,” Lan said again.

Taitt stared at the viewscreen.

“Incoming,” Rollins said.

“I can’t evade,” Stadi said.

Two of the three torpedos struck Voyager.

“Shields are holding at thirty percent, but the dorsal shields emitters took a hit,” Rollins said.

“On it,” Honigsberg said, crossing the bridge to the engineering station.

“Keep firing at Taitt’s co-ordinates,” Cavit said.

“Aye, sir,” Rollins said. He worked his station controls, clearly moving as fast as he could manage. “Firing.”

“Wait,” Lan said. “That clipped something.”

“Give it another tap,” Cavit said. “On screen.”

They all looked up, and this time when the phasers fired, it was clear they were striking the edge of something, but it was grazing an edge, perhaps.

“I’m adjusting,” Rollins said, and the next series of phaser fire took two small swipes at the same area. Clearly striking the edge of something.

“Got it,” Lan said.

“Are we close enough to lock on a tractor beam?” Cavit said.

“No sir.”

“Stadi?” Ro said.

“They’re firing again,” Rollins said.

“Can’t they see what we’re doing?” Taitt said, frustrated.

“Evasive,” Cavit said.

Stadi did her best, and this time only one of the torpedoes hit. She managed to rotate Voyager’s dorsal shields away from the blast, which was probably the only reason the shields didn’t give way, as well as aiming them toward the cloaked ship. Still, Stadi’s panel lit with a few amber warnings.

“Minor damage to the thruster attitude control,” she said. “But we’re on our way.”

“The second we’re within range, tractor that ship,” Cavit said. “Then do whatever you have to do to decloak it.”

“Aye, sir,” Lan and Taitt said in unison. They shared a glance, and Taitt turned back to her station. She prepared a cohesive tachyon beam, one of the few things she knew to be effective against most forms of cloaking technology. At least, they were in the Alpha quadrant.

The turbolift door opened, and she spared a glance as Doctor Fitzgerald walked in, his right hand holding the arm of one of the Numiri.

“Captain Cavit, this is pilot Ti’Shen,” Fitzgerald said.

“Nice to meet you,” Cavit said, rising to meet them half-way. “Any chance you’d be willing to tell Commander Si’Lann we found the people responsible for the mine and to stop shooting at us?”

“I can try,” the man’s voice sounded impossibly young to Taitt’s ears.

“Rollins,” Cavit said.

Fitzgerald took the Numiri over to Tactical.

“We’re within range,” Lan said. “Locking on with the tractor beam…” She paused, tilting her head. “We’ve definitely got something.”

“They’re not responding to the hail, captain,” Rollins said. “But they’re stopped firing.”

“I imagine they believe I’m being coerced,” the Numiri, Ti’Shen, sounded almost apologetic.

“But they’re listening, at least,” Cavit said.

“We need to show them that ship,” Ro said.

“I’ve cued up a coherent tetryon beam,” Taitt said.

“Do it,” Cavit said.

“Firing,” Honigsberg said.

“On screen,” Ro said.

On screen, the wavering light of the tractor beam seemed to be hitting nothing at all at first, until a moment later, when the brighter tetryon beam struck, and a small vessel appeared.

“They’re hailing us,” Lan said.

Cavit blew out a breath. “Fantastic. On screen.”

Commander Si’Lann appeared again.

“Commander,” Cavit said. “As you can see, there’s another ship. Also, your pilot, who we treated for injuries is here on the bridge with us. If you’d—”

“Captain,” Commander Si’Lann interrupted, but this time, Cavit raised his hand.

“Commander,” he said, raising his voice. “I’d really, really like to hear me out before you interrupt.”

The Numiri’s nostrils flared, but she nodded, remaining silent.

Cavit smiled. “Okay. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

*

_Captain’s Log, stardate 48601.2: As Commander Si’Lann promised, the the Numiri were very grateful to learn about the potential third party supplier of weaponry—an alien race they knew as Sikarians—and have taken custody of the three crew who remained on the small vessel as well as the Banean survivors. The use of the spatial mine violated current terms of engagement between the two worlds, and though the Baneans are claiming they acted outside the purview of their government, my understanding is tensions between the two political powers remain high._

_As much as I hated the idea of getting involved in the dispute between two worlds, Commander Si’Lann made it her personal responsibility to see Voyager was rewarded for bringing the potentially disastrous weapon to light, including having supplied us for all repairs we needed to make and as of this morning, her petition to her government to help resupply Voyager’s power reserves was approved. It certainly made the hours I spent testifying worth it._

_For the first time since we arrived in the Delta Quadrant, we’ll be running at full power. To say the crew are looking forward to not running on grey mode would be understating._

_We’ll be back underway as soon as the refuelling is complete._

The door to Cavit’s ready room chimed.

“Come,” he said, closing the log entry on his monitor and rubbing he bridge of his nose. His eyes felt like they were full of grit.

Ro and Fitzgerald stepped in, and took seats across from his desk. Ro had brought a PADD, which she held out to him. “Final repairs report, and catalog of the supplies we’re onboarding.” She smiled. “Gara and Cir also managed to trade with the Numiri for something called ‘marob root.’ Apparently it makes for a very flavourful tea.”

Cavit smiled, taking the PADD. “I’ve learned to trust them when it comes to tea.”

“I don’t suppose there was any coffee to be had?” Fitzgerald said.

Ro shook her head. “Afraid not, doctor.” She turned back to Cavit. “How was the final meeting with the inspectors?”

“Long,” Cavit said. “The Numiri are very precise in their legal investigations, but it was worth it.” He raised the PADD. “It’s nice to have an ally, and to know we’ve got a clear run through Numiri space.”

“I don’t imagine the Baneans are as likely to be happy with us,” Fitzgerald said.

“Or the Sikarians,” Ro said.

“You know, I was sitting here with my optimism quite happily,” Cavit said, leaning forward. “You could let me have it for a couple of minutes before hitting me with the half-empty.”

“I’m the first officer,” Ro said, rising. “It’s my job to be contrary, Captain.”

“Uh-huh,” Cavit couldn’t help smiling. “Are the crew all back to original quarters?”

“All decks powered.” She nodded. She looked at Cavit. “At the risk of being contrary, Captain. Why don’t you let me take the bridge. You’ve been working with the Numiri non-stop since we got back here. You could use a break.”

Cavit opened his mouth to tell her it was okay, but Fitzgerald raised his hand. “I’ll be contrary, too, and make it an order, if you’d like.”

Cavit eyed them both. “This is technically mutiny, I think.”

Ro’s lips turned in that slight smile she had, but rarely showed. “I’ll be on the bridge if you need me.”

She left.

“How are the Ocampa?” Cavit said, leaning back in his chair.

“Embarrassed. They feel responsible,” Fitzgerald said. “Stadi and T’Prena are going to work together with them going forward.” He grinned. “Between you and me and these walls, I can’t wait to see that happen.”

Cavit shook his head. “You’re terrible. And the Ocampa shouldn’t feel bad. Even if I did have to explain their penchant for precognition, how they could see things before and still affect the survivors after the fact, and what a _projected telepathic coma_ was at least a dozen times. If it weren’t for them, all those survivors would be dead, and the ones responsible wouldn’t have been caught.”

“Well,” Fitzgerald said. “When you’ve got a second, maybe explain that to Daggin and the others yourself. They look up to you.”

Cavit nodded. “I will.”

“And now,” Fitzgerald said, rising. “You will leave this room, go back to your quarters, and get some rest.”

“As soon as—”

“Now, Aaron.”

Cavit shook his head, then rose. “Understood, doctor.”

“Good. What are you going to use your extra replicator rations on?”

Cavit stretched. “A shower. A hot water shower.”

“Nice.” Fitzgerald said. “Free for dinner? I’m thinking of replicating a shepherd’s pie, now that Rollins isn’t there to eat three quarters of it.”

They started for the door.

“I take it you won’t miss your roommate?” Cavit said.

“He wasn’t bad. But the man could eat,” Fitzgerald said.

The door opened and they walked through the bridge. It was a quiet space while they were in orbit. They didn’t speak again until they were in the turbolift.

“Deck two,” Cavit said.

“Deck five,” Fitzgerald said.

The lift started moving.

“I’d love to,” Cavit said. “Dinner, I mean.”

“Great,” Fitzgerald said. “But after your nap and shower. Nineteen hundred.”

The door opened, and Cavit stepped out. He turned back to face Fitzgerald. “See you then.”

Fitzgerald’s smile was soft, and his grey blue eyes flicked back and forth. “See you then.”

The door closed, and Cavit walked to his quarters, not quite as tired as he’d been just a few minutes ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go. Sorry for the delays in this one. Cluster migraines for the lose. 
> 
> I read somewhere that in Canon Voyager, they'd intended to use the Sikarians more than they did, so I thought I'd introduce them a bit earlier and make them a bit more morally grey, underlining that they didn't have a completely unanimous "non-interference" culture after all. 
> 
> I also wanted to give this version of Voyager at least one obvious moment of having refuelled in some way, and let the poor crew go back to their own rooms.


End file.
